


Night Brother

by thecookiemomma



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU after Sorcerer's Stone, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-24 06:12:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecookiemomma/pseuds/thecookiemomma





	1. Prologue

September 13th, 1980 - Godric's Hollow

“I can't turn this one down, Lils. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

“You really could do if you wanted to, James Charlus Potter. Three months is a very long time. What am I going to do? Dumbledore wants us to stay in hiding for that long…” Lilly Potter looked up at her husband, fire lighting her emerald eyes.

James ran a hand through his always messy hair. “I don't know, Lils. I hate leaving you alone, but I know you have that project for - ”

“Don't even say it out loud. You really weren't meant to know, but since you do, they don't want you to even say the words.”

“Right. And Sirius is going along…” James' mind was already looking for a solution. “Remus is…” He frowned. “I suppose that'd work…”

“What are you planning, Jamesie?” Lilly reached over, and drew her husband's hand from his head, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, nestling up against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I can already see those nifflers digging in the deep recesses of your mind…” She'd lived in the wizarding world long enough that she had started to pick up their phrasing.

“I'm thinking… How are you and Sniv-excuse me-Severus getting on these days?” James looked abashed at his accidental use of the old hated nickname.

“About the same. We owl. You know this. I read you the last one, James. What are you getting at?” Lilly looked up, and frowned.

“I think I need to talk to him. Thinking about asking him to step in as _night brother._ ” James squeezed his wife, and then released her, moving to get a book from their library.

Lilly frowned. She'd heard the term, but she didn't quite understand it. She decided to let it slide, as it was time for tea, and she had to get back to that paper for her project. That was the most important thing right now.

* * *

James ran his hand through his hair again. He looked down at the page. There was no denying that this was a difficult decision. However, Lilly was the most important thing at the moment, and she needed someone to stay with her while he was gone. He made the decision. He grabbed a quill, parchment and inkbottle, and sighed. This would be the hardest letter of his life to compose. Luckily, there was a format for this sort of thing.

_Severus Tobias Snape,_

_In honor and need I greet you during this time of trouble and war._ They really were focused on the martial, these wizards. But it suited his purposes well enough. He looked back at the book, choosing the phrases from the list carefully.

 _I have written these words upon this parchment so that we may come to a mutual understanding of a personal transaction. I have need of thee. Though we have not walked side by side, your dedication to the cause is exemplary, and my heart has chosen thee for this duty._ The book said that was the best way to say, "Lilly fancies you somewhat, so you'll do." He rolled his eyes at the words, and kept on.

 _Please attend a meeting to discuss the feasibility of offering thee the mantle of **Night Brother** , for the protection of my dearest treasure._ He snickered at the thought of Lilly hearing the language they used to describe her. Luckily, she wouldn't need to. This was a private letter.

_In the interest of fairness, I shall choose the place, my home, and thou shalt choose the time. Please inform me of thy choice._

_In all honesty and sincerity,_

_James Charlus Potter,_

_Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter_

He added a personal note on a separate sheet of paper. It explained that, no, he wasn't joking, and yes, he really did want Severus (Snivellus) Snape as his Night Brother, and to contact him as soon as possible to make arrangements.

There. He had done what he could to keep Lilly safe.


	2. Three Days  Home

Harry Potter sat down on the large bed in "Dudley's Second Bedroom." It had only been a few hours since Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had picked him up at King's Cross, fairly pushed him into the back seat of the car next to a whining Dudley, driven home without much conversation between them, and yelled at him to go up to this room. Shortly after they'd eaten — he could only tell that by the sounds and scents coming his way from the rooms below — he heard the click of a lock and the slide of a deadbolt. He glanced around, wondering what this entailed. He had hoped he'd be able to do his summer homework. He was still tired from the stress and mess of the Quirrell incident, and he wasn't sure how he'd do all the chores he was certain they were dreaming up for him. With slow, tired movements, he removed his trainers and lay down on the bed, closing his eyes.

He was wrong. They weren't dreaming any chores up at all. In fact, they were packing. The three of them were headed to Majorica on holiday, and Harry wasn't invited at all. He listened to the scurrying around, letting it lull him into a state of near-sleep, then he opened his eyes again, tilting his head to listen as the familar sound of the car starting up broke through the rhythmic noise.

"Come along, then, Dudders, we're on our way," Aunt Petunia was smiling benignly. Harry had seen that smile and heard that tone so many times that he could picture her face in his mind quite easily.

"Oh, Mummy, I'm so excited." Dudley did sound really excited. This worried Harry, because whatever made him that excited usually caused him severe pain.

This time would probably be no exception.

* * *

_“Now, explain this bit to me again?” Lilly sat beside her husband on the floor, poring over an old book._

_“It's one of those things that they misnamed. They got the idea from Muggles, I think, and instead of calling it 'K-N-I-G-H-T', they called it 'Night.' So, when they brought it over, all sorts of odd traditions started up around it. And this is one of them. Lils, when it says 'take care of any of her needs'….” James paused and frowned in consternation, wanting to explain this in a way that she could understand. “Lily, when I was … oh, sixteen, my mother went through this phase where she was extremely upset, her moods and magic were erratic and she would get angry at the drop of a hat.” He shuddered. “Well, I found out later that's what the old witches call 'Widow's Wobbles.' Because it usually only happens to widows…” He silently begged her to read between the lines; he really did not want to spell this out for her in gory detail._

_“And she was…” Lily was clever enough to puzzle out the truth herself. “Hmmm. I didn't know magic messed with you like that. That'd be intriguing to study…” She slipped into what James labeled 'discovery mode'._

_“Probably is, Lils, but for our purposes…” He added just a trace of pomposity to his voice, sounding for all the world like a frustrated professor lecturing his student. The tone had the desired effect, and Lilly Potter laughed, punched his arm gently, and they bent back down over the book, wife letting her husband explain what he'd done._

* * *

Harry awoke later, feeling much more refreshed. It was night, and the broken VCR read 3:30. If that was the right time… Harry frowned. He didn't have his trunk or Hedwig's cage or anything with him. He listened, wondering if Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were back. The house was strangely silent. He couldn't even hear the loud snoring noises his Uncle made. Maybe they were just gone for the night. He consoled himself with that fact, or tried to.

A low, mournful hoot sounded and Harry's heart lurched. Hedwig. She was most likely stuck in the cupboard, still in her stupid cage. She hated that cage, but it was necessary for traveling. "Hedwig." He started to move toward the door, and then remembered the locks. Damn. He'd just have to wait until his relatives came home. He sighed again, the sound echoing in the silent house, and lay back down to attempt to sleep again. It wasn't long until he was comfortably snoring away.

* * *

Severus Snape sat relaxing in his comfortable wingback chair. He smirked easily, shaking his head at the dunderheaded idiot who wrote this article for _Potions Monthly_ He reached over to the table beside him and picked up his drink, bringing it to his lips almost mechanically. It had been three days since the imbecilic miscreants had left, and he was bound and determined to enjoy himself this summer. No extracurricular activities to make him sweat, no experimental potions to assemble, nothing. Just the quiet stillness of his room, a good magazine, and a great firewhiskey. He set the glass back down, and returned his attention to the drivel in front of him. It started to make a little more sense. _Did no one teach these maladroits to read? Or to write?_ He leaned back in his seat, and started to enjoy the meat of the article, which actually may have had a decent point.

However, just as he was about to get to the key sentence — which was buried beneath so much tripe and obfuscation that Albus would have had a challenge understanding it — he felt a tug in his chest. It began small, but increased exponentially as he attempted to ignore it. It wasn't a heart attack; wizards had clear signs of that, including swirls of magic and things breaking around him. If he were not a wizard, however, he would have assumed that's what this was. It hurt like hell, and he knew instinctively that he would not get any rest whatsoever until this foul sensation had dissipated. He sighed loudly, stood to his feet with a swirl of robes, and headed up to Albus' office. Perhaps the old coot was still in residence, and could help him take care of whatever geas had turned his world fire-over-cauldron _again_.


	3. Awareness and Rescue

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore sat in his office pondeirng the events of the year. It really hadn't been a bad year, all told. True, there was the nasty bit right at the end, but Harry performed even more admirably than he thought, and he couldn't be prouder of him. He sighed, sat back in his chair, and looked again at the shard of the Mirror of Erised in his hand. He hadn't lied to Harry about the disposition of the stone, but he _had_ possibly misrepresented himself when it came to what happened to the mirror. Nicholas was furious with him. Not for the Stone, no, he'd told Harry right about that. No, Nick was upset at how poorly he'd treated Harry. He had spent the last few days examining his behavior and not seeing Nick's point. However, Nick was much smarter about these things than he, and he did have a huge blind spot when it came to trusting people. _Just look at Gellert, Tom, …._ He cut that train of thought off as quickly as he could. Those experiences didn't bear rehashing again tonight. Besides, there was something in the air. Something that seemed to cause the wards and ambient magic to quiver with worry. If Hogwarts were sentient, or if he could believe that she was, he might say one of her own was in danger. He frowned, wondering what was in store for him tonight.

It didn't take long for the wondering to turn to at least some sort of understanding. He saw on the back of the door (in the small, enchanted mirror that served as a one-way window — glamored to look like the rest of the door, of course), that Severus was headed up to see him. He flicked his wand, opening the door, then set his wand down again, out of sight. Best to be seen as … well, as a powerful figure, even when dealing with one as close as a son. Perhaps it was even more important then.

"Come in, come in, Severus. Oh." He took note of the man's expression. "Whatever is wrong?" He steepled his fingers, gazing at his favorite spy — well, his only spy, but still, Severus _was_ his favorite — with concern. "Something's wrong. Tell me?"

Severus sat down in the chair heavily and sighed. "Something is making my heart feel as if I am experiencing a myocardial infarction. I have not seen the customary swirl of magic that accompanies a wizard's MI, so I am loathe to believe it is thus. However, my options are rather limited—"

His long-winded explanation was cut short by one of the little whirring devices on Albus' desk. It started screaming loudly. "Well. That might shed a little light on …" Albus mused, turning toward Severus. He had to know. "Do you remember telling me about the pact you made with James Potter, Severus?"

"Of course, Albus. Don't bring that stupid mistake up now. I know I failed them horribly. I didn't protect —"

Albus shook his head, and cut him off. "Yes, yes. Well, you have the opportunity to make up for that." He winced as the sound got louder. "Will you come with me?"

"It is Potter?" Severus looked at the small whirling, shrieking instrument with a moue of distaste.

"It is." Albus was standing already, reaching for a traveling cloak.

"I shall. He is my responsibility." Severus appeared ready to go, but then again, he had learned the art of being quickly mobile long ago.

They walked down the stairs quickly, heading out the door to the apparation point. "You know where to go?"

"Indeed."

"Very well. I shall meet you there." He spun on the spot and entered the void that was apparition.

* * *

Harry was thirsty. That was all he could think of. No water. He'd tried opening the window and seeing if it would rain, or if he could reach some water somehow, but there was no such luck. The window had bars. Vernon had really done this right. He didn't even have the energy or wish to call him a relative anymore. He felt his forehead with his hands — hands that were swollen from dehydration — and swore. He was really cold and clammy. Before Primary School, he'd spent so much time in the cupboard that he'd learned easily the signs of dehydration. It didn't take much to affect a little boy. In a lot of ways, he was still very little.

He licked his lips, trying to figure out how long it had been since he'd come home. It had to have been at least one day, maybe two or three. The clock had gone around at least once that he could tell. However, he couldn't remember, since his days and nights were starting to blur. He did a lot of sleeping. He was about to go right back to sleep, not knowing what else to do, when he heard the sound.

A loud pop like the backfire of a car engine broke the silence, and he startled, sitting up. He couldn't see anything strange from his angle, but that didn't mean … he frowned, and looked around for his trainers, as if that would do him any good.

After a few moments, he heard the front door open, and he stilled, not sure if it was family or someone else. If it was someone else, who would know he was here? Would it be Ron and his family? Or would it be someone who didn't have his best interests at heart? He'd already been in trouble with evil wizards once. He knew there probably were a lot more of them out there. _Malfoy's dad, for one_ , Harry thought uncharitably.

"Oh, Severus. I had forgotten." Harry sighed in relief. He knew that voice.

"I am his Night-Father Albus. I should not have been excluded, Dark Mark or not. I have told you this." Oh. There was another familiar voice. "Where is the brat? And where are his guardians?"

"I fear the worst, Severus." He couldn't hear the Headmaster's words too clearly, but he thought he heard " _—nt Me, Harry._ He started banging on the door.

"I'm up here, sir! Up the stairs! The door with the locks!" He banged loudly, until he heard another soft spell.

" _Alohamora._ My dear boy…." Headmaster Dumbledore gave him a once-over, and his eyes widened. "Harry, are you well?"

Harry shook his head. "Water. Haven't had water since I came home. They locked me in and just… left." He winced at the roughness of his voice. Harry took the conjured cup of water, sipping it slowly, forestalling any objections coming from either man. "Done this before. Drink too fast, and it comes right back up." This shocked both of them.

"When were you this dehydrated, my boy? You haven't had anything to drink for three days."

"Thought it was something like that. Oh, all the time." He tried to sound offhanded about the whole thing, and almost made it, though there was a bit of bitterness in his voice.

"Let me see. Look at me, Potter." Snape's voice was tight, and he sounded even angrier than usual. He locked deep dark eyes with Harry's and suddenly, Harry was remembering those years in the cupboard, without the lights. He tried to guide the direction of the thoughts, wanting him to see the worst of it, and was surprised to see how far back he could remember. He could remember birthdays when his only gift was an extra kick from Dudley or more chores from his aunt and uncle, but no food, let alone a cake. The memories continued to whiz by, and Harry got the impression that his teacher was seeing them all, looking for something.

"Albus." Snape's voice was clear and carrying. Harry hadn't ever heard anyone talk like that, at least not outside of a classroom. "I invoke the Rite of the Night."

"What?" Dumbledore looked shocked. "Against whom?"

Snape's expression was nearly feral, and as Harry took another slow sip of his water, he was glad the expression was not directed at him. "Against these filthy Muggles, and against whomever made the execrable decision to place him here."

The Headmaster looked every one of his hundred plus years as he gazed at his potions master. "That would be me, then."

The feral smile did not disappear. "So I had rightly assumed."

Harry couldn't help it. "Wait. Wait, what? Night what? And I heard you before. Knight-Father? Like the chess piece?"

His eyes widened at the two divergent expressions turned on him.

* * *

They gathered his things, freed the poor owl from his cage, and apparated back to Hogwarts. Severus held his Night-Son close to himself, and sighed, twisting in place. Harry let out a quiet exclamation as they landed. "Warn a bloke next time, would ya?" He turned to face Severus, and then remembered who he'd said that to. "I mean, please, professor, if you do that again, would you let me know? What is that, anyway? Teleporting? No sparkles, though…"

Severus bit back a laugh. Apparently his small charge had seen some American science fiction show somehow. "No, Potter, it is called Appariton. I take it you have never apparated?" He knew the answer, obviously, but it was a good entry into the conversation.

"Nope. I mean, no sir. I've only ever taken the Hogwarts' Express and flown, of course." He'd insisted on moving under his own power as much as he possibly could. "Sir, could you tell me…"

"We shall get everything explained to you once we get you taken care of, Harry." Harry blinked at his use of his first name. "Is that alright that I call you by your given name? I could return to calling you by your surname, if you'd rather." He laced his voice with his dry humor. "It might make things more difficult of course, but I shall soldier on as best I can."

Harry gigled, and faltered in his steps, reaching out for Severus' arm to steady himself. "No, Harry's alright. Whoa. I think this is about as far as I can—"

"Say no more. You achieved more than I expected you to, Harry." He reached around Harry's waist, picking up the too-light boy, and holding him close. His heart stirred at the opportunity to hold his night-child in his arms at last. It was nearly twelve years too late, but it still felt good.

"Sir," Harry asked, shivering slightly in the closeness of his arms, "why were you so angry with me last year?"

Of all the questions, the boy could ask, this one was the hardest.

"I had to appear to hate you, Harry." He closed his eyes, pausing his step as he collected his thoughts.

"Oh. Because of Voldemort?" Harry was a very perceptive boy, it seemed.

"Yes, because of the Dark Lord. Do not speak his name in front of me, please. I know that the Headmaster has given you leave to do so otherwise…"

"Oh, okay. I'll try to remember. I didn't even know it was taboo until last year." Harry scowled, and Severus wondered if he knew how much he'd missed out on by being raised by those … pigs.

Severus carried the boy into the school, and took him straight to Poppy. "Here you go, Madam, please scan him. Do a full scan. You have my permission to even do a deep-magic scan if you need."

"And who are you to provide the permission? You may be his teacher, but you're not his…" Poppy was scowling at him, hands on her hips.

"I am Night-Father." Severus laid his hands on Harry's shoulder as he lay in the big white bed.

"Oh, my. Oh. Well, then, that's definitely a close enough relationship for such things." Poppy smiled.

"What _is_ it?" Harry repeated, asking for more information.

"What is what, dear?" Pomphrey asked him.

"Night-Father. Night-Child. Rite of the Night. I've heard these things, and I don't have a clue. My aunt and uncle told me my Mum and Dad died in a car crash." He looked down, and frowned.

Severus was appalled. "Take notes, Madam. I am invoking the Rite of the Night." She nodded and went to get a quill and parchment. "What else happened there, Harry?"

"Um, well, until I was .. well until I got my Hogwarts letter, I slept in the cupboard under the stairs." He pushed his glasses up on his nose, and Severus noticed they barely fit.

"So, they transfigured it into a room for you because they had no other?" Poppy asked, hopefully.

"No, ma'am. They're muggles. It doesn't work like that. And they had two extra rooms." Harry looked up then, and gazed over at the mediwitch, squinting somewhat.

Severus had had enough of that. He reached over, and pulled off the boy's glasses, ignoring the protests from both the others in the room. "Check his eyes, madam, and check the prescription on the glasses. I believe there will be a discrepancy."

"Oh." It was Harry who spoke first. "Well, there might be. I've had these forever. And they got them from a rubbish bin, I think."

Before waving her wand, Poppy wrote that down as well. When she did check him, she frowned. "Not even the right type of prescription. They've probably made his eyes _worse_ , not better."

"What can be done for him temporarily until I can get him to the wizarding occulist?" Severus needed to know.

"Well, for now, we'll spell them to auto-correct. They'll work for roughly a week. I will only do it once, though, Severus. Mark me." Poppy gave him a dark look.

"It shall be my first priority. Now, Harry, do you have better clothing?" Severus thought he knew the answer to that one as well, but he wanted to make sure.

"Nossir." Harry took his newly-spelled glasses back and put them on, beaming at the difference. "Wow, that's great! Brilliant!"

"You were saying?" Severus tried to redirect his attention to the matter at hand. "Where did you get the clothes you wear, then?"

"Dudley's old castoffs. He needed new clothes every week sometimes, because of how fat he's getting, but they don't fit me properly. I've had to find strings and things to keep the pants up, and the shirts hang… It's a good thing I don't have any hair there, sir, or I'd be considered indecent." He grinned, and looked up at him. "Um, can you please tell me about the Night-Father thing, and why you're mine?"

"I shall, Harry. It shall take a while. Perhaps I should sit down, and tell you as a story?" Severus flicked his wand to summon a chair to himself. He lowered himself into the chair, and began to tell his tale.


	4. Chapter 4

_Severus arrived at Potter's house promptly when he was asked to. He stepped inside the small house and gazed around. "This is quite unlike what I expected to see, Potter." He nodded curtly to the man and allowed the corners of his mouth to curl up just slightly as he glanced at Lilly. "Lilly. It is a pleasure to see you again."_

_"Sev. It's good to see you too." Lilly stepped over toward him and embraced him briefly. Severus watched Potter as she did, and noticed that his expression tightened but he didn't say anything. "James, stop that."_

_"I didn't say anything, Lilly-love." James was a bit flabbergasted by her chiding tone._

_"You didn't have to. I can tell. You wanted to. You agreed to this. It was your crazy idea. So, we'll do it, but it's too damn late to back out now." Lilly turned in Severus' embrace and glared at her husband. "Sorry, Sev. You know how he gets."_

_"Mmmm." That was all Severus felt safe saying. He did tighten his arm around Lilly's waist in further response, but only for a moment._

_"Oh, stop. You're doing it too." Lilly glared up at him for a moment, and his breath caught at the fire in her eyes. It always had._

_"You may be correct on that score, Lilly, but I will plead that is is a matter of habit for us both. " Severus released the love of his life, and turned to James. "Shall we do the ritual?"_

_"Yes, lets." James gave a quiet chuckle, and walked over to the small round table where all the particulars for his portion of the ritual were laid out. He gave Severus the time to lay out his own collection of odds and ends, and then they began the process of the ritual in earnest._

* * *

"So, my dad picked you to watch over my mum while he was away?" Harry asked, when Severus had finished his highly edited version of events.

"Indeed. And, in time, that protection and care transferred to you." Severus replied, his voice only wavering a tiny bit, showing his nervousness.

"So, why didn't you come and get me right away, then, sir?" Harry was curious, and pushed his glasses back up on his face, gazing up at his teacher with no guile. Severus' heart caught again at those eyes which looked so much like Lilly. And on James' face. It had been too much to see, when he first saw the boy, Night-child or not.

"First, I must ask you, what do you know of the wizarding war? The conflict between the Ministry and the Dark Lord? I should clarify. The _current_ Dark Lord. He who styles himself Lord Voldemort."

"Only what you've told me, the bit that the Headmaster told me, and a few bits here and there. It was mostly about blood status, from what I can tell, or it seemed to be." Harry frowned. "I mean, he killed my mum and dad, and lots of other people, and I somehow kicked him out of his body. I don't know how. And Vol- I mean, the Dark Lord was in the back of Quirrel's head and when I touched him, it burned, and Professor Dumbledore said that was because of my mum's love. That didn't make any sense to me, though. Susan's mum died protecting her, too, I heard Hermione say, and nobody died from that, did they?"

_The boy had a fair point,_ Severus thought.

"I believe it was the strength of her emotions combined with some extremely old magic. Your mother was … she worked in the Department of Mysteries. They call their employees, 'Unspeakables', because they are not allowed to even speak of their projects to their spouses. I only know because I heard your mother muttering in her sleep. I was sworn to secrecy when I asked about it, however. But I digress." The Headmaster even looked interested, now. "The Dark Lord was a charismatic man when he was young. Do you understand what I mean by that, Harry?"

"I — I think so. He was cool and suave and all together, or at least appeared that way. Kind of like …" Harry paused, "Like Malfoy, except hiding the arrogance and instead sweet talking all the girls."

"Precisely." The Headmaster's mouth turned up in a smile, as did Severus' own, though he attempted to hide it. He wasn't sure whether Harry caught it or not. "Except he did not only charm witches. He charmed wizards too. He was able to speak in such a manner that we believed everything he said. I was a young, half-blood — much like yourself — except I was sorted into Slytherin. I worked for years to get my place in the hierarchy, and then was noticed by Lucius Malfoy. Draco's father."

"Right. And he was higher up in the rank thingy than you, so you wanted to impress him, so you went along, and here's this guy who can charm the pants off the preacher, and …." Harry stopped when he realized what he'd said. "I'm sorry." He visibly flinched, clearly expecting a blow.

"Albus…" Severus growled, and Harry drew further into himself. "Calm yourself, child. You may have stated it more vulgarly than I would have liked, but in all points, you are correct. He offered me a chance to show my prowess, and make him potions. However, it was too good to be true. When I realized that his solution was closer to Hitler's 'Final Solution' than to any real good means, I had literally taken his irremovable mark. A magical tattoo that connected me to him via my magical core."

"Ouch. So once you've gotten in, you can't leave. So, what happens when he comes back?" Harry's expression was worried.

"I shall return to his side, and continue spying. I brought information to the Headmaster and those who worked with him and for him. For instance, the Bones family, as you have mentioned, as well as your friend Mr. Weasley's family."

"Oh. Wow. That took some guts, sir. I wouldn't be able to do that. My face always shows what I'm thinking. Well, most of the time." Harry snorted, and Severus felt a small thrill of pleasure that Harry was proud of him.

"However, I was unable to take you because the ritual which we completed wasn't reported, because of my spying. I shall do so now, because your life is of greater import than mine, and — "

"Hold up there, sir." Harry said, raising his hand and then flinching slightly again. Severus imagined it was because he'd spoken up and interrupted his elders.

"It is of no consequence, Harry. I wish for you to feel able to talk to me plainly." He glared over at the Headmaster, who looked extremely sad.

"Right. Well, I don't think my life's more important than yours. I mean, you're a spy and you're necessary. I'm just a little boy." He mumbled something else, and Severus couldn't hear that.

At this point, the Headmaster spoke up. "What was that, my boy?" He must have heard at least part of it, or he would have let it slide.

"'M a freak anyway." Harry repeated, this time loud enough for the two men to hear.

"Whyever would you think that was the case, Harry?" Albus gently prodded.

"S' my name before I went to school, wasn't it? Freak, boy, stupid idiot, hey you…" He looked up to the Headmaster. "I didn't know my name until they registered me at school, and that's only because they couldn't register me as Freak. I think they tried." He snorted. "I had to look at the official records to be sure. I mean, when I could read, that is."

Severus was livid. He had to stand up, and began to pace. Poppy, who had been recording the conversation, looked utterly shocked. Albus looked completely defeated.

"I am so sorry, my boy. I had no idea."

"S'alright. Nobody did, I think." Harry gazed around and watched Severus pace back and forth for a while.

* * *

Harry watched his Night-Father pace across the floor with a wry amusement. "Sir.. What do I call you?"

"Hmm?" Snape looked over at him and frowned slightly, and moved toward him, stopping his pacing. "Pardon me, Harry what did you say?"

"I asked what's the proper terminology… I mean, what does a night-child call his night-father? Father? Uncle? I don't know." Harry frowned as well. This was important to him. If Snape was family now, he didn't want to mess it up.

"When we are in class, Harry, I shall still need your respect." Harry nodded to his teacher. That much was pretty obvious. "For when we are alone or not in class, you may choose to call me Severus or Father. Since your biological father is no longer around, the ritual makes a concession that I may serve in his place. It was rather the point, really." Snape looked over at the headmaster, and frowned more. "I shall be wanting to spend some quality time in your office, Albus."

"Indeed, my boy, indeed. Harry, I have a book which will delineate what your responsibilities and rights are in the Night-father / son relationship, if you're interested in reading it?" Dumbledore looked over his half-moon glasses at Harry, the twinkle in his eyes quiescent.

"Please, sir." He reached up to push the glasses on his face with a habitual gesture. "If it's alright with you, sir." The second sir referred to Sna — no, he had to start thinking of the man as Severus or Father. Maybe it'd be easier to start with, "Severus?" Harry tried, very softly.

"Hmmmm?" The man in question turned his attention back toward his Night-Child.

"I'm …" He chewed on his lip. "I'm still very thirsty, sir. May I have some more water?"

"Oh, of course. What are we thinking?" It was kind of funny to hear the deprecating tone turned in on the man himself. Harry couldn't prevent the small smile that crossed his face. "Here. Here is a drink. It's water with a light potion in it to restore your electrolytes."

"Like pedia-lyte or something." Harry named off the name of a medicinal drink a teacher had given him a couple times at school when he was younger.

"Something similar, yes. I keep forgetting that this is not a new experience for you, my child." Severus handed Harry a glass of the stuff. Yellow. Lemony. Mmmm. Harry sipped slowly, and was surprised when the cup refilled itself. "Whoa. That's amazing." He grinned even more.

"The cup itself is enchanted. It allows you to have a continual source of whatever liquid you put into it. We may, of course, change that liquid by a simple spell or two." Harry's eyes widened at his guardian's explanation. "Now, child, drink a little more, and then you must rest. I will go speak with the Headmaster for a while, and then return to your side. Is that acceptable?"

"Sure. It sounds good to me." And in truth, it really did sound good. Someone wanted him. Someone was watching out. It was a new feeling. He sipped slowly, watching the tall, dark man step toward the door and walk through it. After finally drinking enough to feel more hydrated, he set the glass down on the end table, and laid down slowly, curling up to sleep in the soft bed.


	5. Three Ginger Conversations

After watching his child — _With James and Lilly both gone, he is now mine, and not just Night-child, either_ — for several long moments, Severus Snape stepped out of the Hospital Wing and caught up with his Mentor on the way to the older man's office. "Now, Albus, no more stalling. With the invocation of the Rite, you cannot prevaricate any longer, nor postpone this for years on end while you string us along as puppets on a marionette's chain. I know how you think, old man, and I won't let you do that to my — my son." His voice caught on the last word. "He very well might be my own, and his features merely adapted to the magic of the Rite. It is impossible to tell. All scans, now that we've been declared, will show all three parents." Albus made to start speaking, to protest, probably, but Severus held up his hand to forestall any words. "No. You will let me finish. I will be taking this boy. Now, I know I cannot take him to Spinner's End, so I shall complete my work there while he spends time with his friends. Perhaps Arthur and Molly can take him for a while. I know that they wouldn't mind."

"Quite right, my boy…" Albus began, obviously wanting to get his oppositions in before Severus got too far. Severus was aware the old man knew he was going to be limited, and wanted to at least have some say in how this turned out. However, Severus had other ideas.

"Exactly right. And it will only be for a couple weeks. Then, he and I shall find a house. Probably here in Hogsmeade. We shall purchase it, and live there." Albus opened his mouth again, and Severus shook his head. "No. No _fidelius_ , no blood wards. I have my own solution. Know this, old man," and Severus was pleased to note that the fury in his voice had given his mentor pause, "I will protect him with my very life, but I shall do it my way. I know you did the best you possibly could for Lilly and James, but now, he is my responsibility. And mine alone. Everything else is subsumed to that. Do I make myself clear? _Everything._ " His jaw started to hurt from how tightly he was clenching it, and he forced himself to relax. "Now. The moment has arrived. According to the rite, you have one opportunity to explain yourself to me alone. If you do not — cannot, or simply refuse to, it makes no difference which — I shall call in an Auror, and get the ministry involved. And do not doubt that I will." He flicked his wand, and summoned a chair from the side wall. "So, explain."

"My boy, I must apologize. I did not realize the specific rite you had chosen, or I don't think I would have taken this route. And I wasn't aware of how tightly you were bound. The rite hasn't always been so … well-used, I will say." Albus started, as Severus figured he would, with platitudes and empty apologies. Severus just sat there stoically, gazing at him, waiting for the real explanation. "Do you remember the night you heard the very first portion of my interview with Sybil Trelawney?"

"I do, but what that has to do with my son…" Now it was Albus' turn to cut his protegee off.

"Bear with, me, Severus. It is a long and convoluted tale. I shall attempt to make it more succinct. If you have any questions after my telling, I can expound on the particulars." Severus found that acceptable, so he nodded, motioning for him to continue. "You decided not to listen, assuming there would be nothing of value in the conversation. Another was listening, however. I am uncertain of who, though I have suspicions."

Severus nodded. "I see So, did something come up in that conversation?" It must have done, for the old man to mention it.

"Yes, it did. Sybil gave a true prophecy. It stated that the Dark Lord would mark a child of parents who defied him thrice, and that the child would have a _power the Dark Lord knows not_ to be able to defeat him. I assumed it was Lilly's love for her child. But if you are correct about her course of study, then it couldn't be that at all. Which means I was completely mistaken. I counted on that when I anchored the Blood Wards on Privet Drive."

"As well as counting on the fact that that woman had completely and utterly changed her character in only a few years. Albus, you knew that Petunia Dursley never got over her envy for her sister. You knew that she had convinced herself through the years her sister was an aberration — a freak of nature, if you will." Severus stood and began to pace. "And, if I might add, Blood Wards do not work quite like that. They only work in a place where the magical blood relative dwells, and there must be a positive emotional component to them."

"How do you know for certain, Severus? All the books I have read state that as long as the one to be hidden can call it home, he or she is safe." Albus was seriously curious.

"The main sourcebook, from which the others draw, is by Morgon Parthellus, correct?" At Albus' nod, Severus continued. "He had an odd manner of speaking. If you look at his other books, he always chose specific words to convey his meaning, and because of the dislike of the time for anything … magical, he hid most of his true meaning in his phrases."

"That's right, but what does that have to do with the Wards?" Now it was Albus' turn to sound confused.

"He stated, _As long as the individual can call the place 'home'._ That meant, in his particular venacular, that the individual had to consider it a 'home.' A safe place. A Haven, Albus. A Haven." Severus stopped his pacing and watched the impact of his words on the old man.

"And a Haven is defined as a place where the person is safe, not only physically, but emotionally, spiritually and magically." Albus' face fell, and he sighed dejectedly. "Petunia Evans would never have counted, because she would never have accepted who Harry is in truth. Oh, I am so sorry, my boy. I did not know."

"I understand that, Albus, and I will not invoke the strongest recompenses for you. However, there will be a consequence. I have yet to determine what it shall be. It will require thought. And it will take your good will." Severus needed to think. However, a young man would need him soonest. "Do you remember the charm to determine a child's size?" Albus shook his head.

"Hmm. It seems I shall be contacting the Weasley family sooner than I had expected." Severus gave a soft sigh, and sat down again. "Now that we have that particular issue cleared up, I do wish to seek your counsel on a few other things." He leaned forward in his seat and began to explain his idea.

* * *

Severus stepped quietly into the infirmary, and gazed down at his son. Harry was still sleeping, but even in sleep, his son told him so much. He curled up into a tiny ball, and at the slightest sounds, he flinched, and lifted his arm to protect himself. Severus' heart dropped. He scribbled out a note to the Mediwitch, and then stepped back out of the hospital wing, making sure to close the door as silently as he possibly could. He stepped down the halls, and down the stairs that led to his suite with his measured stride, his mind astir. What would have caused his son to act like that? He wondered about a way to — _ohhh. That might work. It would be tricky, and would require a modicum of stealth, but … it just might work._ Severus filed the idea away for later, and smiled, then turned into his rooms to conduct the floo-call.

"The Burrow!" His deep voice called out the destination, and he waited a moment before kneeling and sticking his head in. "Mrs. Weasley?" There was a stirring, a shushing, and a 'blimey,' before the two identical redheads rushed out of the room, hopefully to get their mother.

"Fred, George, stop it. You lot are acting like hooligans. Now, go degnome the garden and let me see who's at the Floo." The matriarch shooed them off, and stepped toward the fire. "Oh, my. Professor Snape. What can I help you with? It wasn't those two miscreants, was it?" Her lips thinned in a line as she clearly considered the possibilities. "Or was it Ronald? I told him he should…"

Severus held up his hand to forestall her. "Neither, Madam. May I step through? I have need of your assistance on a personal matter." He watched the normally loquacious woman fall completely silent. She nodded, and stepped back, giving him the room to stand up, and call, "The Burrow" again, this time, stepping through.

"Professor Snape. Severus. Would you like some tea?" Molly was flustered, and Severus recognized her coping technique coming into play. "And I'll just get you some of those biscuits I made. They're not warm anymore, but they are still fresh and crumbly…"

"Thank you, ma'am. Molly." He returned the favor. "It would be appreciated. I cannot remain here long, but I have come to ask your assistance." Normally, he would have been scowling had he come here for help any other time. But Harry needed help. So, he overcame his dislike for these reddest of red Gryffindors, and turned on the gracious manners learned at Lucius Malfoy's knee in Slytherin House.

"Certainly." After a few moments, and simple explanations to her children that sounded a lot like 'never you mind', and 'none of your business, George,' she returned with the tea and biscuits. She sat down on the settee near him, yet far enough away to give him space, and settled in. "So, Severus, tell me what's on your mind." It was pretty obvious that Molly had no idea what she could do to help the younger man.

"I — this is a bit difficult for me, having never been in this situation." He snorted, considering his best course of action. Then, remembering his child, he nodded, and blurted out. "I am Night-Father, madam, and have recently come into the position of caring for my Night-Child. The particulars of day-to-day care are not beyond me, but there are a few simple things I require assistance with, and as a mother of some renown and my own acquaintance, I decided to call upon you."

"Well. I'll be." Molly inhaled sharply, and gazed over at the man, seeming to take his measure. "Would you feel comfortable telling me who your child is?" She knew the Old Ways, though the Weasley family did not always adhere to them. She knew that he would only be taking on the job if the birth parents were dead. Therefore, by all rights, the child became Heir to the Night-Father's line, as well as his or her own.

"Normally, I would not, but the identity of my child makes it rather unavoidable, madam." Severus spoke obliquely, and wondered if she would have the wisdom to figure it out.

"Oh, that poor boy. I thought he looked…" Molly could put two and two together as quick as any Slytherin. "Oh, dear. Is he alright?"

"He shall be, madam. Of that you can be assured. As I say, I have the day-to-day care under control. I have had my godson over multitudinous times, and know what is required for care. However, I do ask for two things from you."

"Only two, Severus?" She smiled, and Severus knew it was her attempt to lighten the situation. In that moment, Severus could see every one of her sons in her face: William's wisdom and dry humor. Charlus' perserverance and industriousness. Percival's ambition and adherence to stricture. The twins' mischievousness, and Ronald's loyalty to those considered family. The youngest, Ginevra, Severus had not met yet. However, he imagined he could see some of her there as well. He had to hold his breath for a moment, and looked down at his tea to compose himself at the connections made in his mind.

"Yes, ma'am." He snorted. "Only a measly two. Firstly, if you would not mind, may I impugn upon your hospitality for Harry for a week or so? I know that it is a good long while, but I have some things I need to take care of, and a home to set up for the two of us. My mother's old house will not do. It is in a mill town, and purely muggle, and … rather dilapidated to boot. I have the means to purchase a small house in Hogsmeade, in fact, I am aware of the very one, but I need the time to make the transfer. Even with magic, it will take several days."

"Oh, Severus, that would be no problem. I'm sure the boys will enjoy themselves. I was intending to invite him here anyway closer to the end of summer, but we can just change the plans around a bit, and invite him here earlier instead of later. That would be lovely. And don't worry about putting us out. Consider this his — and your — second home." It was obvious that it cost her something to include him in there, as they had never gotten on well, but she made the offer. Clearly, even as a prepubescent teen, Harry Potter was changing the world. "You mentioned a second thing?"

"It is more trivial, actually. I wondered if you would consider teaching me a charm to determine Harry's size without measuring him? I must transfigure those rags of his into sensible clothing for the present, until I can get much more appropriate attire purchased." Severus flushed slightly, and lifted his teacup, drinking it slowly to cover his embarrassment. He remembered what it was like to wear second-hand robes that were barely held together, sometimes even including the use of spell-o-tape.

"Oh, Severus. I have a much better idea. I've got a lot of clothes that Ronald has outgrown, and you can certainly…" She paused for a moment, thinking, and Severus continued to sip at his tea, and take small bites of the molasses biscuits on his plate. "Here is the charm." She demonstrated quickly, casting on Severus, and a size showed up. There was a hidden laughter in her eyes, and Severus couldn't help but remark.

"Well played, madam. I shall take a few of those things, if you do not mind, and then I shall retire posthaste to the stores to order more. He shall need … nearly everything." He set his cup down, and ran his hand over his face. "I may require more advice as time goes on, and as I say, you are the preeminent resource in my acquaintance when it comes to raising Gryffindors." He smirked.

"Why thank you, Severus." Molly smiled brightly, and stood. "Would you like a refill?"

* * *

Severus walked back toward the Hospital Wing, and sighed deeply. He cast the charm on his child, and then sat down in the still-present chair at Harry's bedside. He scribbled down the sizes necessary, and watched the boy sleep. Gazing down at him, he remembered.

_"Right. So, what does a Night-Brother do, Sev? All he did was tell me about Widow's Wobbles and tell me that you're here to keep me safe." Lilly crossed her arms across her chest, and sat down on the couch. "Left you the dirty work again."_

_"Elegant turn of phrase considering the situation, Lilly." Severus snorted. Lilly Evans … well, Lilly Potter now … was one of the few people he was completely at ease with. "It isn't just the 'Wobbles', though that is a large part of it. I am here to serve in James' place, to assist with whatever you need. In the earlier times, women were not allowed to floo nor apparate alone unless it was an emergency, for fear they would make a mistake and not be able to find their way home. Completely asinine and chauvinistic, if you ask me, but that was custom at the time." He moved to sit next to her, surreptitiously moving a little closer as he continued. "As I say, your needs are paramount. To put it as bluntly as your husband might, or at least his mutt of a friend," he rolled his eyes and snorted at the predictable swat on the arm that engendered, "if you need me to fuck you, I shall. If you need me to sleep on the other side of the house, I shall do that. Pick up groceries, brew you a potion, clean your laundry…." He shrugged, realizing he was being less than subtle. However, the time for subtlety had passed. "For all intents and purposes, I stand in James' place. Literally. To keep you safe from everything, including the vagaries of your own magic."_

_"Oh." Lilly apparently felt comfortable enough to close the gap between them, and lean up against his shoulder. He could feel the warmth of her right there. It served as both a delicious reminder of his place, and … ironically, a painful reminder of the same. Her mouth thinned and her eyebrows furrowed as she thought. "That has to be really hard on you, Severus. You've wanted me almost as long as James has. If not longer."_

_"It — It did appear to be the only means by which I would ever be near enough to you, Lilly, even for a temporary arrangement such as this. Your husband was quite gracious, in truth. I — " What he was, which he wasn't exactly sure, Severus never got the chance to say. Lilly had summarily turned him toward her and kissed him very soundly. It was at least as good as he imagined, if not leagues beyond his imagination. He allowed his mouth to open, and let his more experienced paramour (for that was what she was now) plunder his mouth with abandon. His tongue soon found the counterpoint to the rhythm hers was setting, and they settled in for a good snog._

It had only gotten better from there. As her magic got more erratic, she became proactive. Since this was his assignment for the time, there was time. There was time, and there was want. Whether it was his declaration that he'd fancied her for so long and had taken advantage of the situation, her pure _need_ for him, or a real connection, Severus was never sure. However, what he was sure of was that the nights became filled with bliss, pure and simple. He was not so noble as to pass up what she offered, and offer she did. He hadn't counted on the cost.

However, it was worth it. Completely and utterly worth it. He closed his eyes and fell into dreams of those halcyon times.


	6. Beginning to Belong

Harry awoke from his dreams and gazed around. He saw his Night-Father — _well he was his father now, wasn't he?_ He saw Severus sitting beside him, dozing lightly. He grinned and looked up at the man's face, studying him carefully. While he reached over to grab the drink, he pondered his current situation. True, his father was now someone he hadn't liked — scratch that — he'd bloody thought the worst of him for most of the school year! But he did have to admit, that when Severus Snape put his mind to something, he did it wholeheartedly. No matter what the personal cost. If he was understanding things correctly, the man had risked his life for Harry's family several times even before this year. And this year alone, the things he'd done to watch over Harry were pretty amazing. Nobody had done that for him in his memory. He assumed that his birth-parents had done, but he couldn't remember much of them beyond a green light that haunted his dreams when he thought of them.

He drank slowly for a while, then sat the cup back down on the side table, and the light clink it created was enough to awaken the man. "Harry." Apparently, he was the first thing on the man's mind. That gave him pause, but overall, it was a good thought. "Ah, I see. You've awakened. Have you been drinking of your juice?"

"Yessir. That's actually what wakened you. I set it back down. I'm sorry. You looked so peaceful." He braced himself automatically as he always did when he spoke to adults. It was second nature now, and watched as an expression he couldn't quite understand flashed across his father's features.

"You are safe, my son." _That_ sounded so strange, but by the same token, it warmed his heart, and, to his embarrassment, he felt his limbs shaking. He'd never had that experience before. "Shhhh." As Alice might have said in one of the books that Harry had actually gotten to read, _Curiouser and curiouser._ He felt Severus' arms around him, holding him snugly. "Oh, child." He wasn't certain he'd heard that correctly, because he was too busy gazing down at his offending limbs.

"I don't know why I'm shaking, sir." He winced inwardly at how he sounded. He wasn't a bloody little boy anymore.

"I do. You have had an extremely difficult few days, Harry. Your body and your emotions are going to be annoyingly unpredictable." Harry scowled at the thought, and even though the man couldn't see him, he thought that he knew how he was reacting, for some reason. "It is the way of it. What I don't understand, Harry, is why you were not in my House. Most young witches and wizards who go through this experience end up in the house of the snake. We have the history to know how to deal with these issues."

"Asked not to be." Harry muttered, burying his face into his guardian's chest. "Hagrid said it was a dark house and Ron was my first friend, and Malfoy insulted both of them and Vol- _he_ was a Slytherin and …" Harry felt all the words tumble out, and he was only just able to catch himself from saying the evil one's name. He drew into himself a little, waiting for the unexpected fallout. It was definitely unexpected.

Severus Snape laughed. Not just a light laugh, but a full-out belly laugh that had Harry grabbing him around the middle and holding on before he realized what he was doing. It had startled him, but being enclosed in the strong arms like he was, he couldn't run, so he did what he could to hide. "Oh, child. I am sorry. I did not mean to startle you. Both of us will have plenty to get used to in this situation."

"What's so funny, sir?" Harry looked up, and even with his nearsighted eyes, he saw a hint of worry on the man's face, mixed in with the amusement and other emotions. He'd never seen anything like it on Professor Snape's face before, but this helped. It helped him believe he was a human, just like the rest of the world. And not just the 'greasy bat of the dungeons' Ron had made him out to be. He looked back down after a moment, and settled himself more comfortably in the man's arms.

"Hmmm?" He was still laughing, so it took Professor Snape a few moments to gather himself. "If Albus — I mean, Headmaster Dumbledore — didn't set that up, he couldn't have done better, child. Draco is a poor example of cunning. Ambition he has. And he's developing cunning, but at the moment, he is as cunning as you are. Which is to say, 'Not at all.'" He snorted. "That may be an issue, son. Draco is my godson, and as such, spends time with me during the summer times."

"I can make myself scarce, sir. I've done so before…" Even though he wouldn't have picked this man for his Night-Father, he was the one, so Harry would use every tool he had to stay with the man, especially ones that had served him well before.

"No, child. You misunderstand me. I mean to say he shall have to learn to get along with _you_. I'll not have the behavior he displayed during the school year in my private home. I tolerate it at Hogwarts for the sake of appearances. However, I bloody well know that you don't start anything. And the plans he comes up with to try to get you in trouble… A dragon. I ask you…"

"Well, sir…" Harry bit his lip. "Hagrid actually had a dragon. He called him Norbert. He seemed pretty smart. He had these spikes all over his back …" He paused, realizing he was explaining this to a teacher.

"You are not making up tales? A Norweigan Ridgeback?" Harry shook his head to the first, not sure if the man saw it, or if he merely felt it. "Merlin of old. And I suppose you did take it to the top of the astronomy tower?"

"Yes, sir. A couple of Charlie … Charlie Weasley's friends came to take it to the dragon preserve. It was either that, or he was gonna burn the house down." He rolled his eyes at that, though no one could see it. "We even told him that — Hagrid, I mean — and he just kept going on about how Norbert would miss his Mummy." That merited another eyeroll, and a snort.

"Yes, well, Mister Hagrid is well-known for harboring animals that do not fall within the Ministry's normal classifications of 'safe' for pets. He gets away with it because of his size and heritage." Severus — Harry tried to change how he thought of the man, even in his thoughts — snorted as well. Harry pulled back a little, and tried to get more comfortable in the bed. "Better?" This was asked with such worry and concern that Harry had to look up.

"Yeah. I mean, Yes sir." Severus snorted this time, and Harry grinned. His grin disappeared, though, when he thought about their situation. "Sir?" He gazed up at the well-known face. "What do we do now?" He hated the worry that slipped into his own tone.

"Well, Harry, I was just figuring that out myself. Let me tell you my plans, and you can give me your input." Harry frowned. This was new, but he wouldn't complain. He settled back in to listen.

* * *

Severus held his son lightly, not wanting to let go, especially when the boy was explaining about the dragon. _Great Gods above and below. My past is catching up with me, and I'll carry Potter's karma as well, at this rate._ He kept his worry mostly sealed beneath the Slytherin exterior. He did allow his concern and worry to bleed out, partially because it was hard not to with as much as he carried in this situation, and partly because he knew it would ease the boy to know that he really did care for him.

"As I was saying, let me explain. Your friends have invited you to stay with them for a couple of weeks. It was going to be later this summer, closer to your birthday, but circumstances being what they are, Molly Weasley has agreed to allow you to come sooner. This will give me an opportunity to prepare a home for us." He held up a hand, releasing it from in front of the child to do so, and moved to forestall any questions or, more likely, protests. "I grew up in an old mill district in Yorkshire, in a tiny village called 'Spinner's End.' The house there is a rubbish pit, and that's _with_ me borrowing two eager house elves every summer for a week. I need a new place to stay at any rate, and have had my eye on a house here in Hogsmeade. I just never had the impetus to move. You are that impetus. You are not changing my life any more than I was planning to, just sooner than I might have." He gave a wry snort. It wasn't the exact truth, but he had considered moving to Hogsmeade, just had never really put much faith in ever having the means or reason to. Now, as Night-Father, he could use a portion of the Potters' inheritance set aside for just this. It was care for their child, so it applied. He was grateful for the gift, and, as he thought about it, grateful for the opportunity to use it to care for his son. "So, I will set up a house for us, and come to get you. We shall move in, and go forward from there. Any questions so far?"

"Um, nossir. I just don't want to be a burden on you, really. But if you were going to anyway…" Harry gazed up, searching Severus' face for the truth of his words, and Severus' own eyes fell on the bright green that looked so much like his Lilly.

"You are not a burden, Harry James Potter-Snape." Severus watched the effect his pronunciation of Harry's full name had on the boy. Surprise, confusion, acceptance and … dare he believe it? There might have been a hint of belonging. Yes. This might not be as hard as he thought. He may not need his Plan B. He gave his boy a smirk, and nodded. "Yes. With the activation of the Rite, you have claim to my name, as well as the Potters'. When you come of age, you have the choice of which surname to use, and it can be changed for situation. To be honest with you, which I shall attempt to do on every occasion I can…" He did make that caveat, not knowing when he'd need to obfuscate. "… it is entirely possible that I am the one who is your biological father, and you only appear to look like James as a result of the Rite. There is no magical means to tell. The result of the ritual is that three parents will appear on any spell or potion given, now that I have claimed you as Night-Child." He hadn't initially meant to explain that much yet, but something in him pushed him onward.

"You and … you and my mom?" He frowned, not disgusted, merely confused. "Part of the Rite, or something … else?" Harry's cheeks flushed, and Severus snorted.

"Part of the Rite. I had always found your mother to be the most beautiful witch on the planet, but she only ever saw me as a friend. I don't know whether she acquiesced to that portion of the Rite because she trusted her best friend and needed me near, or if there were other factors at work. I'll never know. It's something that I live with." He frowned. "I'm becoming maudlin, and in front of my child, no less."

This brought a snort. "S'okay. I understand." He thought for a long moment, reaching for his drink again. Severus backed up, allowing him to get his drink, but still remaining near. "Wait." He looked up again. "You and my mom were best friends?"

"We were. I met Lilly Evans when we were nine years old. She grew up in the 'better' part of town. I do not recall how many evenings I ate my repast at Rose and Harold Evans' house." Seeing a curious expression on Harry's face, Severus nodded again. "Yes, Harry, I do believe you were named for your maternal grandfather."

"What would you call your parents to me, then?" It was an intelligent question, and Severus wondered how much of his intellect Harry kept hidden. And why.

"Pseudo-paternal, or nocturnal, depending on the source. Nocturnal from 'Night' of the Ritual. It was a mistranslation, or mishearing of a muggle concept, but it has stuck. Pseudo-paternal you can gather. Even if you are biologically my child, because I stand in for James, his family would have more claim if any were alive." Severus shifted in his seat, and gestured to the drink. Harry drank more of it, obviously still thinking through what he'd heard. "However, it is of no consequence. Both of your nocturnal grandparents have passed on. Tobias Snape was a drunk of a muggle who worked in the mills and Eileen Prince Snape was a witch who was excellent at Potions, Gobstones, and sarcastic remarks."

With a wince, Harry reached out with his free hand, and set it on Severus' leg. "I'm sorry. It sounds like you had some of the same fun growing up as I — did." He grinned at the thought of calling himself 'grownup.' "I mean, before."

"I caught the inference, and I think the two may be analogous, yes. There may be variations on type and degree, but the basics are probably very similar. Which brings up another point. I am not the most tolerant man, nor am I … effervescently emotional." This made the child's grin widen, and Severus snorted. "Well, of course you have been exposed to the worst of that." He was the one to reach toward his son now. "I apologize for the comments I made in your various classes. I used the opportunity to vent my frustrations and jealousy with James Potter and ended up being more effective than I intended. I also assumed you knew of the situation and had chosen not to live with me because Petunia and her family were caring for you in a manner I could not. Had I known the actual situation, I would have invoked much sooner."

"Thank you, sir. It means a lot to know _why_ you did that, even if it wasn't for the best reasons." Harry shrugged. "I did some pretty stupid things this year myself." There was a pause as he thought about it. "Sir, if something comes up that I need to talk to you about during the school year, can we …" He frowned, trying to think of a way to phrase his words to make himself clear. "Can we have a way to meet, or talk or something?" He looked up, face stoic, but hope shining in his eyes.

"I think that might be possible to arrange. I laud your wisdom in considering these things beforehand. Now. You must be hungry. I believe I can let you eat if you eat only lighter foods. Could you eat something like soup?"

"Yeah. Soup sounds brilliant, thanks." Severus chuckled, and went to go get his child some food.

* * *

Harry started to pack his things and get them ready for his trip to the Weasleys. He hoped Ron would still be his friend after he told him all about who his father was now. He mused as he folded up the new clothes his father had gotten him.

 _Ron's always been so against Professor Snape — Severus. I don't know how he's going to react to the fact that he's my Night-Father. Luckily, though, it sounds like he knows about it, so I won't have to explain. I will probably have to explain to Hermione, though. I wonder if Severus would let me show her the book. Or Professor Dumbledore, whichever._ After all, it had been the older man's book, Harry realized. He folded a neat green shirt, and set it gently into the trunk. As he had new things, he felt very strongly that he ought to take care of them. He'd dumped all his stuff out, gotten rid of all of Dudley's castoffs, and set his new things into the bottom as gently as he could. And Severus had said he could put his old books on his bookshelf. His new books, which Severus had gone ahead and gotten for him, were shelved in part of his trunk, just in case he got the time to do some homework or reading.

He pushed his glasses up on his nose, and continued to pack, thinking wildly about the situation. He was trying so hard not to worry about telling Ron, but it was very hard. He remembered how Ron got angry at Hermione at the first of the year, and he subconsciously bit his lip.

"Harry?" Severus' voice came calling from the other room. "Are you nearly ready? Mrs. Weasley expects us there in half an hour. I would prefer not to be late." He saw his father come into view, and was surprised to see the concern in his eyes. "Is something bothering you?"

"Yes, si— I mean, Severus. I'm worried about Ron. He makes judgements about people so quickly that I'm afraid I'll lose his friendship." Harry looked down.

However, Severus wouldn't let him do that. He lifted his head with his finger, so that he could look straight at him. "Harry. Do remember that this family is Pureblooded. They may not follow many of the more — esoteric traditions of the wizarding world, but they are aware of them. As well, Molly has promised to explain the situation to him in a manner in which he can understand. I know I am not their favorite person, and so I do not envy you feeling pulled between him and I. However, we will both continue to care for you in our own ways until you no longer need it. For myself, that will entail one or the other of us no longer breathing."

Harry gulped, and embarrassingly, tears threatened to fall from his eyes. He couldn't remember _anyone_ ever making that promise to him. It sounded like … he wasn't too sure of it, but there was a strong chance that it sounded like love.

"Alright. Thank you, Severus. I'm … I'm ready." He gestured back to his trunk, and then, in an impulsive movement, wrapped his arms around his father. Only a second later, he released him, but it was enough in their new relationship. "Let's go. Hey, can I take my broom?"

" _May_ I, Harry, and of course. The Weasleys have a back yard sufficiently large enough to fly around in for hours. In fact, I believe it has been the primary avocation of most of the boys for years." With that, they stepped out of the rooms and headed to the Headmaster's office to floo out, Harry's trunk bobbing harmlessly behind them.


	7. Headed to the Burrow

Severus directed Harry toward the Floo, and demonstrated its use. Harry held tightly on to the handful of powder his father had given him, and sighed. Plucking up his courage, he threw the funny smelling stuff into the flames, and called out loudly, in a fair imitation of Severus, "The Burrow". As he spun through the flames and through various fireplaces and chimneys, two funny thoughts crossed his mind. First, the comparison to Father Christmas traveling via chimney, and then, he thought about why a family called "Weasley" would have a house called a "burrow". He laughed, luckily keeping his mouth shut, though. His father had mentioned that.

As he arrived at the right place, he fell unceremoniously out of the fireplace, and landed hard on his knees. However, instead of tears, like there could have been, he laughed heartily. "What is so funny, child?" The deep tones of his Night-Father rang through the room.

"S'like Father Christmas, innit?" He stopped giggling long enough to say that much, and looked up to see his father's response.

A hearty chuckle rang through the room. "You are correct, son. I remember having that same thought myself." Harry looked up in surprise, lifting his eyebrows. "What? I did not appear fully formed from Eileen Prince's head like an ancient goddess or something. I was once immature and found everything funny in its own way."

Harry continued to giggle. He couldn't help it. The sound seemed to bring gingers from every corner.

"Blimey, Fred. He's giggling like a Hyena, he is."

"Quite right, brother mine. Should we find him a zebra?"

"Naw. Maybe a little lion cub. Hey, Ginny! C'mere!"

"Shut up you two." That was definitely Ron. "Mate, are you alright?"

"Ronald, he appears to be alright, merely experiencing excessive hilarity." Percy.

"Muuum, I don't _want_ to go out there yet." That was a girl's voice. Ginny, then.

"Oh, dear." And here came Molly. "Welcome to our home, Severus and Harry." She gave a benign smile, and then turned toward her children. "Well, what are you lot waiting for? Come and welcome them like proper children, instead of the hooligans you are."

"Yes, mother." Percy, predictably was the first one to speak. "Professor, welcome to our home."

"Thank you Percival." His father was still amused, he could tell, but he hid it under the cover of that mask he always wore.

He decided to do the same, and inhaled, stifling the giggles. He stood up, and wiped the soot off his clothes.

"Blimey, mate, are those my trousers?" Harry stepped back, and hid, partially behind his father.

"Ronald Billius Weasley." Molly's voice started to rise, and Harry moved farther behind Severus.

"Madam." His father spoke softly, but with an urgency he appreciated. "I understand the necessity of correction as much as the next individual, but could you lower your voice? My son is recovering yet from his experiences, and loud noises tend to…"

The whispers began. They were small, and mostly to themselves, but Harry heard them. He peered around his father, feeling like a five year old.

"His son."

"Blimey. Mum was serious. I thought she was having us on, Fred."

"Hmm. The rite of the night is seldom used…"

"Hush you lot." She too whispered, but it was a furious whisper. "Come along, then Harry. Don't mind me. I'm a bit noisy when I get riled up at my bo-my children." Here, she gave Ginny a knowing look. "Now, then. Would you like your own room, or would you like to bunk down with Ron? Either way is grand with me."

"I think I'd like to stay with Ron, ma'am." Harry spoke softly, still mostly hidden behind his father. "Will you come visit me, Severus?" He spoke even more softly.

"Of a certainty my son." His father turned around, and crouched down to see him eye to eye. "Do you recall what I said just not moments ago, Harry?"

"Yessir." Harry replied, feeling very near to tears. "That this is for long-term."

"Indeed." Harry nodded, still fighting off the tears. "And it is perfectly acceptable to miss home and family, but do not let that ruin your time with your friends and their family, son."

"Yessir," Harry repeated, and clutched his father tightly. "Can I owl you if I need to?"

"I should be very disappointed if you did not, Harry." Severus tightened his grasp around Harry's body for a moment, making the boy feel safe. Then, he let go. "Now. Go see where you shall be staying, and I shall return to the school to prepare for my errands. I shall send you along some more clothing directly."

"Yessir." Harry reluctantly released his father, and moved away, stepping closer to Ron. "Hey, mate…"

"Hey, Harry." Ron grinned at him. "Blimey. C'mon. I'll show you our room."

"Sure." And as he listened to Ron prattle on about the house and his siblings, Harry vaguely heard his father call out for the school, and step into the whirring flames. Then, he was gone.

* * *

"So…" Ron began, taking them up a couple flights of unsteady stairs. Harry was glad he was agile, and light, or this would have been hard. "So. Night-Father." Ron sounded like he was struggling with the idea.

"Yeah, Ron." Harry said, grinning at the bright orange of the bedroom, and flinching at the sound of rattling that came from the attic. His expression turned sheepish when he saw Ron looking at him with that gormless look that seemed to say, 'huh? I don't understand.' "Sorry. S'been a hard time since…" He shrugged. Well, since they decided to go through the trapdoor, if he was honest with himself.

"Yeah. S'what mum said. I'm glad Snape's making it better. He is, isn't he?" Harry nodded, and sat down on the bed that had a black and yellow comforter, assuming the bright, day-glo orange one was Ron's. "Yeah, that one's yours. Mine's orange. For the Cannons, of course." Harry knew that Ron was just filling the silence.

"Yeah. Severus has been good. He wants me to call him that. Or Father. I haven't decided which yet. He gave me some juice and new glasses and …." Harry stopped his rambling and pushed his glasses up on his nose. "I miss him, though. Even though he just left. I've never had … well, I haven't had someone like that for me since I can remember. I mean, I assume my other parents were like that, but they're …"

"Yeah." Ron looked down, and appeared nervous. "But … it's Snape." He looked vaguely green.

"I know. You're not gonna be all weird about this, are you? I know we thought he was behind all the stuff during this year but… he wasn't. It was Quirrell the whole time." Harry looked down to the worn pants, and smiled. "And yeah, they were your trousers. Your mum gave my dad some clothes, so I'd have something decent to wear. We're gonna go shopping for some stuff, or he is…" He shrugged again.

"Your dad. Blimey, Harry, that's gonna take some getting used to, that is." Ron sat down on his bright orange bed, and grinned at him. "But, no, I won't go all crazy on you. Mum says if we do, we can expect to get punished pretty strongly. It's not just being rude to you; it's disrespecting some of our oldest traditions."

Harry nodded, looking back up to his friend with a small smile. "Alright, then. Chess?" Ron grinned over at him, and they settled down to play a game or two before dinner.

* * *

Molly sat in her rocking chair, humming quietly, knitting needles working furiously. She had noticed that Harry loved his jumper, and had decided to get an early start making his new one. He seemed to be growing more already. Perhaps it was an effect of the Rite, or perhaps it was just the good food he was finally getting on a consistent basis. _That poor boy,_ she thought as she wrapped the yarn around the needle for a purl stitch. _He's gone through so much already, and just at eleven years old._ She sighed, and continued to knit for a while, looking down at the deep green yarn. She frowned, thinking about the colors of yarn in her craft box. Did she have enough to make a black sweater? She suspected Severus wouldn't wear anything with a letter on it. Perhaps the Slytherin symbol in the same green? That would do. She might…

Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard a young scream echo out through the night. She was on her feet in a flash, heading to the stairs, taking them two and three at a time to get to the source of the noise. The door of the master bedroom opened, and Arthur stepped out, handsome as ever in his worn pajamas and silly sleep hat. Someone had given it to him after they'd picked it up in a Muggle store. Arthur loved it so much that Molly'd had to patch it three times so far. Thank Merlin for magic.

"Everything alright, Mollywobbles?" He glanced up the stairs, and then began ascending them behind her.

"I'm not sure, Arthur. It sounds like Harry, poor thing." And that was the truth. It really didn't sound like any of her kids. In the back of her mind, she realized this was inevitable. Severus hadn't told her much at all, but she hadn't raised seven kids thus far without catching a few things between the lines. The way he'd flinched at her voice had spoken volumes. "Oh, dear." She whispered to herself as she got to the top of the stairs. The sight made her freeze in place, and Arthur bumped into her, whispering apologies in her ear, making her shiver for a moment.

"S'alright Harry. You're at my place, remember? They can't get you here. Shhh. S'alright." Ron was half-asleep, but he'd gotten out of bed, and wrapped his arms around his friend. He was whispering words of encouragement to him while rocking him slowly. "Shhh." He looked up, and his expression was one of being caught out. "Mum." His voice squeaked. Unfortunately, that woke Harry further.

"Oh, no. I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to…" Harry started to move out of Ron's arms, clearly embarrassed by the situation. "I'll just…"

"Naw, mate, it's alright. Just lay back down, okay?" Ron turned toward us. "This happens all the time, Mum. And they've gotten worse since all that stuff…" He tried to explain without really saying the words.

"Oh, it's perfectly understandable, dear. You didn't wake me up anyway. I was knitting on a sweater. Do you suppose your father would like a black sweater with a Slytherin crest on it?" Molly attempted to misdirect the boys.

"Oh, Muuuum, you didn't." Ron whined, and Harry started to giggle again.

"Brilliant, Mrs. Weasley. Even if he didn't wear it ever, he'd still have to take it, because it's polite and …." He stopped mid-sentence, afraid of their responses.

Molly watched him closely, but couldn't help the soft chuckle that came out of her mouth at his words. "Well, that's true, dear. He isn't one to return a gift. And you are welcome in our family." She quickly corrected herself, or made herself clear, anyway. " _Both_ of you will be welcome here at any time. Your father has had a rough road, dear, much like yours, and we want to do everything we can to help you both out." Behind her, Arthur was nodding his head, she noticed from the corner of her eye.

"That's right, Harry. Molly and I have known Severus for years, and though he isn't the most — demonstrative individual, his heart is in the right place." Molly felt Arthur's hand rest gently on her shoulder.

"Oh, yeah, that's true." Harry opined. "He's been brilliant so far. He got me some new clothes, and he's gonna take me to get new glasses, and …" He looked up at them, grinned widely, and then moved to lay down again. "I'm going to see if I can't get back to sleep. I'm sorry for disturbing you. I'm glad I didn't wake you, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, think nothing of it dear. Ronnie, you're a good friend, and I'm proud of you dear." Ron's face flushed a bright red at the words, but his eyes showed a quiet pride. Having encouraged her son as best she could at the moment, she turned to head back downstairs, pointedly ignoring the sounds of the boys commiserating together for a few moments before they returned to sleep.

"Mollywobbles…why don't you put your knitting up and come join me? You know there's that draught in our room…" Arthur's voice was quiet, and close, and Molly shivered.

"Mmm. You might be right, husband. It wouldn't do to waste heat, now, would it?" She gave him a saucy smile, and went to finish the nighttime rituals before joining her lover in their bedroom.


	8. Playing and Preparations

Harry slept well the rest of the night, and woke up refreshed in the morning. He had a feeling he was going to love living at the Burrow, though it would take him a while not to react to the noise level. Mrs. Weasley had tried her best to keep her chiding to a quieter tone all morning, but it didn't take long before she was screeching loudly. This time, it was at Fred and George for mixing something up that had exploded in pink goo all over the stairs. Harry found it brilliantly funny, but she didn't at first. However, when he watched her as she put lunch together, he thought he caught her smirking and rolling her eyes. He stepped away before she could catch him. The twins had to get their mischievousness somewhere. He shook his head, then went back up to where Ron was playing Exploding Snap with Ginny. "Mate? Should we help your mum get the food on the table?"

"Naw, Harry, if she wants our help, she'll ask for it. You're alright." Harry nodded, accepting Ron's subtle encouragement — or as subtle as Ron got. He grinned, and sat down to join them for a few minutes.

It wasn't long before Mrs. Weasley was calling out, "Come and get it!" Unfortunately, the cards chose that moment to explode. Between the loud voice and the boom of the cards, Harry was confused. He scrabbled back to the corner between the settee and the chair, and covered his head. Ron moved over close to him, settling an arm on his shoulder.

"Harry." Ron spoke softly. "It's okay." Harry looked up and Ginny was looking at him with her head tilted, as though she was trying to figure something out. The others were gazing his direction with varying expressions on their face. Mrs. Weasley looked abashed, though he wasn't sure why.

"Right." Harry's voice broke, and he stood up, brushing his jeans off. He inhaled, swallowing his shame, and walked over to the table. "Looks good, Mrs. Weasley," he grinned, and she tilted her head, much like Ginny had, nodded once and directed her kids to their places at the table.

He was silent through the meal, grinning at the conversations around him. He ate slowly, relishing the simple sandwiches and soup Mrs. Weasley had made.

"Why don't you eat more, mate," Ron asked, gesturing to the plate of sandwiches.

"Can't yet," Harry replied, giving him a pointed look.

"Oh, right." Ron nodded, as he understood. "You can eat whatever you need to, though, here. Don't worry about it. If nobody's around, Mum'll leave something for you to eat. Right, Mum?"

"Don't worry about it, dear, your father and I have it under control." She smiled, and Harry saw the worry in her face. It was very strange after the Dursleys. He nodded, and pushed back from the table.

"Mrs. Weasley, would you mind if I went flying?" He looked out to the back yard. "Severus said you lot often flew in the back yard. If that's okay…" He looked around the table at all of the kids.

"That's a lovely idea, Harry. Ronald, you make sure everything is the way it needs to be."

"Yes, Mum." Ron grinned and finished his sandwich in quick form.

"What about…"

"Us, dear …"

"Mother? Aren't we…"

"Older than Ronniekins here?" Fred and George sounded affronted, but after living in Gryffindor Tower with them for a whole year, he knew they were just joking. By the looks of things, their Mum did too.

"At times I'm not sure, Georgie." She smiled. "Now, run along, the lot of you. Don't fly any higher than the tree in the back corner. Harry dear, I hear you do an excellent Wronski Feint. I'd rather you didn't do that here, dear."

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley." Harry flushed a little, and waited to make sure that she didn't have any more to say, and then he strode quickly to their room to get his broom and headed outside. He mounted the broom and was in the air almost before the others got outside. It was exhilarating to just lazily float around the field, looking at the whole place from a bird's eye view.

* * *

Severus Apparated to Spinner's End, right into his living room. He began cataloging all the different things he would have to take to a new place, and what would remain behind. He was fully aware he would have to keep the house, though he'd rather sell it or burn it to the ground. It made for a good, out-of-the-way meeting place when he needed to meet with Death Eaters. He sat down in the wingback chair and mentally outlined the process he'd need to go through. He transfigured some old cloth into boxes, and set the 'pack' spell to working. While that was doing its job, he scribbled out a list of things for him to do. Firstly, he'd take Harry to the occulist, then he'd take him to Twillfit and Tattings… no, maybe a Muggle shop first. Harry was used to Muggle clothing. As much as he despised wearing Muggle clothing — at least as outerwear, his son needed the liberty of choice Lily would have given him. He pinched the bridge of his nose, remembering a night after Harry had been born. He'd stopped by to visit and was greeted with the sight of the child, staring up at a conjured ball of light coming from Potter's wand.

"Severus." James had become a lot more civil after he'd returned from the assignment. Whether it was because he knew the truth of Harry's paternity or because the spell encouraged it, or some other reason, Severus didn't ask. Any taming of the vitriol from the Marauders was accepted and gratefully.

"James." Severus greeted him in kind. "Harry looks well." He smiled a small smile as James bounced the ball of light around, and the tiny boy giggled.

"Yeah, he's brilliant. Want to…" James gestured down at the boy, then looked back up into Severus' face.

"I cannot linger, but I did want to warn you that things may be getting complicated. In the interests of our bond, I would suggest sequestering yourselves away, perhaps even from me."

"You'd miss seeing …" James frowned, pushing his glasses back up on to his face.

"I would sacrifice seeing all of you ever again to keep you all safe. You must know that." He turned away, the emotion embarrassing him. Just then, Lily stepped out from the bedroom, walking over to greet Severus with a kiss.

"Alright, Sev?" She ran her fingers through his hair, then stepped away.

"I am fine, Lily. Thank you. Harry looks well." He smiled down at the child, then his smile widened as Lily listed off everything Harry had done since he'd visited again.

That had been the last time he'd seen his Night-Brother and family. He shook the memory off and resumed packing.

* * *

Severus Apparated to the Burrow, having gotten to a point in his preparations that he could break away to see his son. He strode up to the door and rapped sharply.

"Give us a mo," he heard from inside. Molly opened the door and invited him inside. "Good morning, Severus. He slept much better last night, I think. Either that, or my Ronald is getting better at covering his tracks." She snorted at the thought, and gestured to the table where the children all sat eating their breakfasts.

When his son saw him, he jumped up and moved to embrace him, but stopped before he got there, unsure.

"It is acceptable," he said, opening his arms. Harry stepped just close enough to wrap his arms around Severus' frame. After a quick hug, Severus released him and pointed to the table. "Finish your meal, son, then we will go. We have an appointment with the occulist and clothing to purchase." Severus looked over at Ronald, making sure the young man showed no signs of jealousy.

"Yeah, alright. Have you eaten yet? Looks like Mrs. Weasley made enough for an army…" His voice trailed off as he realized he was inviting someone to someone else's food.

"It's quite alright, Harry. I was about to ask him the same thing. You just beat me to it. " Harry flushed and looked up at his father with the question in his eyes.

"No, I have not. I was intending to eat on the way, but if you would rather, I shall sit down with you and eat a little here."

The only response Harry gave was a nod, so Severus made room for himself at the already full table and accepted a plate of food from Molly.

The meal was eaten in relative silence except when his son was describing the past two days. Apparently, Molly had had her sons removing the gnomes from the garden — a chore he had never had to do himself, but his mother had told him all about tossing the vulgar little creatures across her uncle's fence. He smiled fondly at the memory. They finished the meal, and Severus rose, his excuses on his lips. "Thank you, Madame, and if you will excuse us, we do have an appointment at the occulist. We shall return when that and the shopping trip is completed." He gestured to Harry. "Go and wash up, quickly, son, and we'll be on our way." Then, with a thought, he turned his attention to Molly again. "Is there anything we might purchase while we're out to help with the household?"

Molly looked up at him, then considered. "If you wouldn't mind, Severus, I'll just write a short list, and get you the money. It won't be but a couple small things."

"It is the least we can do," Severus agreed.

"Thank you." Molly replied, as Harry came back down from the bathroom.

"Are you ready, child?" Severus asked, taking the list and looking it over. He nodded to himself; it wouldn't be difficult at all, and she had given him more than enough coins to cover the cost. He wondered if it would be possible to help pay for some of the things without the perceptive woman noticing.

"Yeah. I mean, yes, sir. I think I'm ready. Are we going to teleport again?" Harry looked a little worried that he might actually do so.

"We might _apparate_ again," Severus replied, putting the tiniest emphasis on the word to correct him without shaming him. "However, I was thinking you might prefer to Floo. Was I mistaken?"

"No. No, sir. You weren't. I think I like the Floo much better than the apparating."

"Apparition." Severus nodded. "Madame, Miss Weasley, Misters Weasley…" He gave one more short nod in farewell, and guided Harry to the fireplace.

"We'll be back…" Harry called, turning and waving at his friends. Severus handed him a pinch of Floo powder.

"Diagon Alley, Harry. Make sure to say it with a break between words." He demonstrated.

"Yes, sir." Harry repeated the name, speaking clearly, and Severus was satisfied.

Severus went first, knowing that Molly was watching the other end. He landed gracefully, and Tom the barman came over to ask him whether he'd need a drink.

"Not today, Tom. I have other business. Perhaps when we leave?" Tom looked confused as Severus mentioned another person. "I trust your discretion? Last time he was here, it was nearly a mob, and it caused some issues between himself and a professor."

"Oh." Tom realized immediately who might require such discretion, and nodded. "My apologies, Professor." The Floo flashed, and his son stepped out, falling directly on his ass.

Severus chuckled lightly. "As you see the white light, signalling nearing your stop, step forward. The magic will carry you out. It will take some time to get used to. Children born into the culture do it nearly automatically because they watch their parents as they are carried in arms, and remember. Or they are given a rhyme to remember."

"Oh. That makes sense, sir. Thank you. Hello, sir." This second part was directed at the barman.

"Just Tom, or Mister Tom, lad. You don't need to call me 'sir.' Save that for the good professors." Tom smiled his wizened smile, and nodded to both of them. "Enjoy your time on the Alley, gentlemen. If you decide to get something to eat before you return, let me know, and we'll put you up in the back room. Safer and quieter back there."

"Thank you, Tom." Severus nodded. "Come along, son." He spoke more quietly, settling a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Would you mind if I cast a glamor on you? It will feel warm and slippery, like an egg on your skin. You have to allow it to work."

"So, sort of like not itching at make-up when you have to wear it." Harry nodded, continuing as Severus gave him a questioning look. "I was a sprite or something for a school play. They covered my face with green. It was slimy, and it itched the whole time I wore it."

"Much like that, then." Severus waited until Harry had nodded. He didn't cast a complete glamor; they needed his basic size and coloring for the clothes. Instead, he changed the features on his face just enough to conceal the "famous" Harry Potter from view. If people looked closely at him, they would still recognize the Boy Who Lived, but most wizards and witches didn't pay attention enough to their surroundings to require more than that. If he did run into one of them, he had a cover story prepared, and Dumbledore, eager to make up his errors, would back him up.

"Where are we headed, sir," Harry asked, intuitively knowing not to call the man by his first name in public. Severus was proud.

"To the occulist, son," Severus spoke softly, and led his son to a building near Madame Malkin's. "We'll give Madame our custom when we finish with your eyes. Are nyou ready? Wizarding Occulists can be markedly different from Muggle ones.

"That wouldn't make much difference, sir. Other than the school nurse who saw me a lot, I never have been to a… an eye doctor." He sounded unsure, not wanting to pronounce the longer word, or perhaps unsure if there were indeed a difference, say between an opthamologist or an optometrist.

"I shall be asking you for a list of these things, Harry. We will be invoking the Rite of the Night to punish those who mistreated you."

"But they moved away, Professor," Harry said, his tone more inquisitive than declaratory. "I don't know where they moved to."

"Magic, my son," Severus paused for effect. "Is quite global indeed." He smiled, and Harry grinned, shuddering a little at the feral look on his father's face.

They stepped inside, and greeted the witch at the front. "I am Severus Snape, and this is the boy I asked Hall to see. Will there be any issues with privacy, or should I spell us?"

"There should be no issues, Professor. Healer Hall takes his oaths very seriously. He's even added several layers on top of the required ones. Many witches and wizards come in here…" She trailed off, most likely at Severus' deadpan look. Harry was looking between the two of them, and a giggle escaped. Severus couldn't hold the glare for much longer, not when his son was laughing.

"Right this way, sirs. Young man, if you wouldn't mind sitting on this chair, I'll have the healer in here in a trice." She stepped out of the room, and in a few minutes, a tall old man entered.

"I am Healer Hall, and I can see who you are. Don't worry, I am under a Healer's Oath, much like your Mediwitch, to keep everything quiet. My assistant knows that if she can't handle a client or a secret, she will have to be obliviated and will lose her job. So, it's in her best interests to do so. She's a muggle-born who lives with her aging muggle grandmother, so she's not seldom out and about in the Wizarding World." He summarized all of Severus' worries and answered them fairly quickly.

"Thank you. Hop up on the seat, Harry, and the Healer will begin. If you don't mind, I shall remain in the room. Unless Harry would prefer otherwise." He spoke clearly but gently, wanting to give his son the choices the young man had not had up til now.

"I would prefer if you stayed, please, sir." Harry replied, moving to clamber up on the chair with a little bit of a wobble when his knee hit the slippery cover. He righted himself fairly quickly and settled into the seat, unsure of how to sit.

Understanding the boy's problem, the Healer summoned the small chair and sat down. "Lay back against the seat, please, and hold very still. I will point my wand at your eyes, but I will not cast anything but a testing charm." Harry nodded quickly before remembering that he shouldn't move, and he froze. "It's alright." The Healer cast a charm wordlessly, and numbers began scrolling in the air.

"Wicked," Harry whispered, remaining as still as he could.

"Mmm, indeed," Severus replied, wondering what the numbers meant, but not really needing to know.

"It appears his eyes are worse than his father's. He may need stronger glasses, and a potion to ingest, and one to place in his eyes." Hall gestured to the numbers and began explaining them. "We started using the same measuring system that the Muggles use, since we had so many Muggleborns and Muggle-raised among us. It makes it easier to translate between what the optometrist does and what we can do. The child has a condition that we see rarely. If caught and corrected, it will vanish fairly quickly. Otherwise, it will lead to his eyes worsening the older he gets. It has to do with proper nutrition and light differentiation."

"What potions will you be giving him? I may already have them in my stores." Severus was wary of giving his son any potions not made by his own hand.

"A nutritional potion — the new green ones, I believe you were instrumental in their creation, right, Mr. Snape?" Hall turned from his examination of Harry's eyes. "And the Occulus Claro potion. It allows the — back part of the eye, where the images actually are sent — to heal efficiently. It prevents any tearing from strain."

"The retina?" Harry looked up.

"Yes." Hall seemed surprised. "How is it that you know how an eye is put together, Mr. Potter?"

"I read a book about it once. There was a book about how the body works. I read it several times." Severus didn't need to look into the boy's eyes to see the memories playing across his mind. He scowled and then schooled his features back into a more friendly face. It wouldn't do to scare his own son.

"I am pleased that you chose to spend the time wisely. How were you able to see?" Severus asked obliquely. The boy was smart enough to get the reference without having to ask.

"During the daytime, enough light would come through the bottom of the door. It probably didn't do my eyes much good but I was able to read. That's how I made sure which spiders were good and which I had to smash." He shrugged, not realizing how his words sounded.

The fury began to rise in Severus' chest again, and he exhaled sharply, moving to embrace Harry. "I am sorry, child. I will never be able to say that enough." He released Harry and turned to gaze at the Healer, letting his eyes narrow. "I am exceedingly glad of the oaths," he commented idly. "Might you recommend a General or Child Healer who is likewise spelled? I do not trust Mungo's, as there are so many orderlies and nurses who do not take their oaths as they ought."

"I quite agree. When we finish, I will give you the name of my Healer. Her name is Asclepscia Fudge. She is related to the Minister by marriage. Her husband is the Minister's older cousin Marius."

"I recall Marius. He seemed to be a decent wizard." Severus nodded, gazing back down at his son. "I will need an unbiased Healer to assist in preparing for the Rite of the Night."

Healer Hall inhaled, and then nodded, returning to his work. Within twenty minutes, they had two pairs of glasses, the potion drops for his eyes, and a booklet about options for taking care of eyes permanently. With the advances in the muggle world progressing at a fast pace, Occulist Healers were trying to adapt their spells and potions to match. Severus thanked Healer Hall, took the information about the Healer, and together, he and his son stepped out into the world.

"Are you ready to buy some new clothing, my son?" Severus asked, letting him acclimate to the bright light after the semi-darkness of the office.

"I think so, sir. I'm always up for doing something new." Harry grinned, and Severus snorted, proud of his son for making light of the situation.


	9. Kitted and Coddled

 

Harry followed his father out of the occulists, licking the taste of the nutritional potion from his mouth. "Sir, why do potions have to taste so bad? I know Muggles sometimes add a flavor to ..."

 

"It is a magical process," Severus replied, and Harry could hear him struggling not to speak his name. "If we add flavorings to the mixture, it throws off the balance of the magics inside the potion, and it becomes immediately ineffective." 

 

"Oh." Harry's mind began to whirl. "Where are we going for clothes? I know Madam Malkin's makes robes, but does she make pants? Or trousers? And what about sneakers?" He looked down at his feet.

 

"You are correct. For robes, we may give the lady our custom. However, for more Muggle style clothing, I had thought to go to Twillfit and Tattings and two or three shops out in Muggle London. Which would you prefer first?" Severus paused his stride to ask Harry the question.

 

Harry looked up at him, surprised to have a choice. He saw the tightening of his father's expression that he'd done something to remind him of his experiences at his 'relatives'' house, and looked down again, seriously considering the thought. "Could we do the Alley first, and then, maybe get a burger or something like that when we visit the other shops?"  


"That might be an acceptable plan. Come." Severus began walking toward the corner of the Alley, where a small clothier was situated. Harry followed happily, looking forward to having clothes that were new -- just for him. 

 

It only took a few minutes for the measuring tape to get the correct measurements; the whole process reminded him of getting his wand. Then, it was a matter of selecting styles and colors for trousers, shirts, cloaks, robes, and a few other things. He goggled at the amount of clothing piling up beside him. "This won't..." He didn't even know how to phrase his question, since he didn't want to disparage his father's care for him. 

 

"No, it will not." He need not have worried. His father understood. "As I say, this is a part of the process. I have my own means, and should they falter, we are able to access a portion of yours. You do recall that I said as much, did I not?" 

 

"Yessir," Harry replied, blinking rapidly. "But am I ..." He felt the stress of living up to whomever this well-dressed wizard would be. He'd always been just Harry, dressed in Dudley's hand-me-downs, living on what he could get. 

 

"Are you what?" This question was apparently more difficult for Severus to understand. 

 

"I don't feel like I know how to wear these..." He wasn't sure how to explain his difficulty. "I've never had anything new. I've always had..." He gestured with his hands, indicating the bigger clothes. "What if I tear them or stain them?" There was a loud harrumph as the witch came back into the room with more clothing. 

 

"Forgive us, madam. My charge has had a difficult time of it, and is unused to such fine fabrics or the spells laid on them. If you'll excuse us for a moment, I shall endeavor to explain." He squatted down, looking Harry in the eye. "Son," he spoke quietly enough to prevent others from hearing, "there are spells on every piece of clothing one may purchase here. If they wear out, they may be renewed, or there are simple charms for repairing, or even cleaning a garment. If the worst happens, we will simply purchase another one. It is of no moment. Which is your favorite?" 

 

Harry gazed at the pile, trying to decide. "I like that one, sir. That pair of trousers and that shirt. They look cool together." He grinned, the grin widening at his father's amused exasperation. "Am I right? Do you want me to pick out one outfit to wear for the rest of the day?" 

 

"Mmm," Severus was picking the pieces out of the pile to hand to Harry. "Now, go clothe yourself, and I shall pay. We'll go out through the bar after that." 

 

Harry nodded, and moved to do as he was asked. 

 

* * *

 

 

It didn't take them that long to finish their shopping trip; the size charm translated into Muggle sizes, so Severus knew exactly what size to get things in. Even the pants and socks fit just right. He knew he'd have to enlarge things and get new ones at an alarming rate -- especially if his son gained any of the weight he missed out on from the mistreatment -- but it was worth it to see his little boy properly outfitted. "Now, Son," Severus spoke, willing to claim him in the Muggle public where most Pureblood wizards wouldn't be caught dead, "you mentioned a burger? Am I correct in assuming that you mean one from a restaurant such as this?" He looked up at the American import, with its bright colors -- Gryffindor, even -- and suppressed a slight shudder. 

 

He watched his child look up at the restaurant and smile. "Yes, sir, that'd be brilliant." He started to head toward the building, but paused, unsure. Severus pursed his lips, and cursed the Dursleys again. It would not do to have his child be an egotistical brat like his acclaimed father, but his severe reticence could be crippling. His mind spun out for a moment, considering scenarios where Harry was in trouble because he was too reticent to take what he needed or ask for help. 

 

"Harry," he began as he opened the door. As expected, the boy looked up surprised. "I know that between your rearing and your first year in our world, you have no high opinion of those who are in authority." He raised his hand to forestall the objection he could see coming. "It is completely understandable. However, I would like you to consider that we did not understand the situation, and we adults are prone to make mistakes like any other human being." Harry nodded his understanding, and Severus plowed on. "I know that it may be a long and arduous process, but I would like to be the person you trusted with those secrets you feel the need to share." 

 

"I have Ron and Hermione." His voice sounded a little sulky, and Severus shook his head, waiting in line to order food. 

 

"I do not intend to take the place of your friends. Every child requires and deserves an adult confidant who can assist him in difficult times and guide him through the process of growing up. For some, their advisors are naturally their parents. Others do not have that luxury, either because of the absence of said parents, or because the relationship does not lend itself to such a role. My own advisor was the Headmaster, and I believe he was hoping to be yours as well. However, I'd like you to consider your Night-Father for the role." Finally, it was time for them to order, and they went through the banal process of getting 'fast food.' He doubted the appellation was as appropriate for a wizard who had eager house elves around. They carried their orders to their seats, and sat down, Harry's face pensive as he unwrapped his burger. 

 

"Can I think about it a bit, Severus?" He looked down at his meal as if surprised it was still there. If what he'd heard about the boy's whale of a cousin, there might be a reason for the expression. 

 

"Of course," Severus replied, picking up one of his chips. "It is not as though anyone requires you to make this decision immediately. You have the time to consider my words and the wisdom in them." He munched on the chip, letting the corner of his mouth turn up at the taste and the memories it brought. It was a different taste than the fish and chip shops near his old home, but it did taste similar enough for him to be able to remember.. 

 

"Okay." Severus watched Harry take a small bite of the burger, roll the meat around in his mouth, and swallow quickly. "This is brilliant." He grinned widely, and began eating at a more normal pace -- well, normal for a preteen boy. 

 

"Decorum, child," Severus chided, though he kept his tone light. 

 

"Oh, right." Luckily the boy did swallow his bite before speaking. "Hermione always fusses at Ron for eating like Fang." He rolled his eyes. "Thanks," he continued, gesturing down at the food. 

 

"You are quite welcome." Words ceased for the moment as night-father and -son finished their meals. 

 

* * *

 

 

Harry finished up his burger and automatically began clearing the table, picking up the trash and gathering it together. One of the staff was sweeping up a mess left behind by a family with three children all as thoughtful as his cousin, and she stopped when she saw him. "What a sweet, well-behaved boy, sir. You've raised him right." Harry blushed at this, and carried the trash to the bin. He could hear Severus replying with a simple 'thank-you', and he returned to the table, fighting the urge to hide under it. 

 

"Come. We must return you to your friend's home, or his mother will worry. Then, we'll see about appropriate behavior." Harry grinned up at Severus at that. 

 

"Yeah," he paused, changing what he was going to say to avoid saying Mrs. W's name. "She does have a bit of a temper." 

 

"Your mother had a bit of a temper, son. Your friend's mother is a banshee." Harry chuckled, and the girl sweeping did too. 

 

"Thank you for comin'," she said, probably echoing what she was supposed to say to customers leaving. 

 

"It was brilliant," Harry replied. 

 

"See," she gestured to Severus. Severus just nodded, and guided him out of the building. 

 

"Did you need anything else before we return?" Severus lowered himself down to speak to Harry. Harry was glad, because that brought him to eye level. 

 

"I can't think of anything else I need at the moment, no, sir." Harry frowned, going through the list of things he needed to live. He had food, he had new clothes, he had new glasses. It was a strange feeling. He looked back at Severus' eyes, and saw them flash with understanding. "I don't know for sure, though. I'm not used to..." 

 

"I know, son. That hurts more than I'd like to admit." He stood again, and rested his hand gently on Harry's shoulder. "If you do need something, do not hesitate to ask Molly if you can write or call me." Harry realized that he used the more Muggle terms while they were standing in broad daylight. Harry felt a surge of pride for the man's ability to blend in to any situation. "Come. Let's find the way back." Harry heard that as 'find a dark corner to tele -- no, apparate -- from.' 

 

"Thank you for the warning, Severus," Harry whispered as they stepped between two buildings, then waited for a group of giggling teens to pass. Severus gave him a sharp nod of acknowledgement. Harry felt the sensation of sucking again, and they were back at the Burrow. 

 

They knocked on the door, winced almost simultaneously at the noise coming from inside, and waited for Mrs. Weasley to open the door. 

 

"Welcome back, boys. Have you had lunch?" Mrs. Weasley began, preparing to plate up food for them, if they needed it. 

 

"Yes, Ma'am, we got to stop at a McDonalds." Harry grinned happily. 

 

"You ate at a friend's?" Mrs. Weasley was confused. 

 

"No, ma'am," Severus explained. "It is a muggle restaurant, similar to a fish and chips shop. Quick food, small tables, and loud children." He reached up a hand to rub at his ears. 

 

"Oh, you poor dear," she grinned. "Well, at least you're out of there now." Harry started laughing at the irony of their words, and Severus tilted his head, showing his understanding of the outburst. "Well. Run along, Harry. The boys and Ginny are out back horsing around." He nodded, turned to hug his Father goodbye, and hurried to join his friends in the back yard. As he left, he could hear Mrs. Weasley continuing to speak to his father for a few moments. He spent the rest of the day in the sun, flying, chasing, swimming and smiling. 

 


End file.
